When the Birds Fly
by Dunno12345
Summary: I already have this in my other one shot collection, but I wanted to make this separate as well. My theory for what happens in the last part of season 5, revolving around the Blakes.


**Okay, first: I'm sorry. Now, this is just a theory I have for the ending of season 5. Not the final ending, but, like, a huge part of it. This took me awhile to write because I really wanted to make it as authentic as I could. Please read and review! Thank you :)**

* * *

He wished he'd never come to the ground.

That was his only clear thought, spiraling around the mayhem of silence in head, sawing through his teeth as an invisible weight bore down on his chest, cracking his ribs one by one.

His eyes were closed shut-Bellamy didn't want to open them. Didn't want to see, because once he did, that was it. There was no unseeing it. No rewinding time. No finding his way back to the stars.

He ground his teeth, hands clenched so hard they shook. The last time Bellamy was this terrified was when he was a boy, being handed something small and precious, with big, pure blue eyes and warm hands that wrapped themselves around his fingers.

But that was a better day. That was the day his life began.

Today . . . too many things had ended.

If only he hadn't come to the ground.

Slowly he dragged in a deep breath.

"Bellamy?"

" _Bellamy?" came her hushed whisper from between the metal slat, tiny fingers poking through the floor. "Can you tell me a story?"_

 _Bellamy was pulling back the steel piece before she could finish her question. Resting on his stomach against the floor, he peered over into the small wedge of space where a little form huddled, hopeful eyes peering at him, his own pieces of sky._

" _Which one, O?"_

 _She twirled a strand of dark hair. "Perseus."_

"Bellamy."

He opened his eyes.

So many things had changed. The world had ended, but nothing had ever felt so out of place until this moment, and no matter how hard Bellamy had tried, he couldn't put it back together.

He met flat eyes, like the color they used to be had faded, dulled to a cool steel. It was too different. Too wrong.

Then Bellamy's gaze drifted to the broken woman at his feet, brown hair shielding her face.

"You should've let her go when I offered, Bellamy. Traitors aren't welcome here."

The red in Bellamy's vision matched the red on the ground. He was unable to look away. Once again afraid to.

"What have you become, Octavia?" he asked quietly, his voice oddly even, like a part of him knew what the rest refused to accept.

But it was enough to make him finally see.

"Strong," she said, her footsteps silent over the grass. "United. You're looking for someone who doesn't exist anymore, Bel. Or haven't you realized that yet?"

A silent shudder ran through him, as he looked up. "I have now."

And he did.

If only they'd never come to the ground.

She raised a brow. "Then you know what it is I want."

Coldness seeped into Bellamy, the weight in his chest ripping through. "I have a very good idea."

Octavia took a step closer, eyes piercing. "But I know you'd die before you told me where she is."

"At least I haven't changed that much."

That raised a fire in her eyes. "You can't talk as if you know what it was like. You weren't _here_."

"No," he agreed. "Maybe if I had been, things would be different. Maybe _you_ would be different."

Octavia glanced toward the treeline. "We'll never know, will we?"

Bellamy looked down, and the sight of red filled his vision again. "Do you ever wonder . . .?"

"Wonder what?"

Bellamy raised his eyes back to Octavia. "What they would say, if they could see us now? Mom . . . Lincoln?"

His words were ice over the fire in her eyes, and Bellamy barely had time to blink before the sound of steel against steel cried, and Octavia was brandishing a sword. "Enough of this," she hissed. "I'll find her myself."

Deftly, Bellamy moved in front of her.

His actions were met with subtle surprise, indicated only by the rising of Octavia's brows. They quickly narrowed. "Get out of my way, Bellamy."

"You know I can't do that."

Her eyes flashed like a whip. With a flick of her wrist, she raised the sword. "Do you think that just because you're my _brother_ , it makes you immune to this?"

"No. When you . . . killed Echo," he flinched at the words, "you showed me that. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn't have touched her." He didn't look down again. "Seems you and Pike have more in common than you thought."

The barb found its mark, those eyes no longer pieces of sky but chips of ice. "If you ever mention him to me again, I'll-"

"What, you'll kill me?" Bellamy spread his arms wide. "So? An enemy of Wonkru is _your_ enemy, right? Then what are you waiting for?"

"Just tell me where the girl is, Bellamy!"

"You can't even see it, can you?" He practically shouted. "You're going after a child, O! Tell me how that makes you any different from Jaha floating our mother, or from Pike killing Lincoln? Tell me how that doesn't make you _worse_ than the both of them?"

He didn't feel it. The swipe was a brush, a hiss of air across his chin, just shallow enough to make blood run. Only moments later did he register the swift fire of pain trailing beneath his ear.

Across from him, the tip of Octavia's sword glimmered scarlet.

"I don't want to do this, Bellamy," she said. "But I will. If I have to." Her voice didn't waver, but there was a flash of something else there, something that was almost pleading. "You don't know half the things I've done."

Bellamy didn't wipe his neck. He could only stare at her, his emotions a swarm. "I believe it."

His words seemed to dig deep, and a flash of uncertainty crossed her face, a beat of visible, _real_ hurt lying fractured in those eyes. Maybe there was even some guilt. Suddenly she looked like the young girl he remembered, and in that moment, Bellamy felt her within reach, her small hands just beyond his grasp.

Then the comm at his waist crackled.

" _Bellamy, come in. Madi's disappeared in the woods, just south of the field. We need an update on Octavia,_ now-"

And those hands slipped away.

Octavia's gaze drifted beyond Bellamy.

The weight in his chest had become a boulder. He could barely breathe.

Silence filled the space, thick and cloying, a wire being pulled taut, until Octavia's eyes met Bellamy's once more.

And then she _moved._

In a blur of motion, Octavia dodged Bellamy, her lithe feet carrying her deftly across the expanse of grass. Evening was falling, casting long shadows against the field, reaching like dark fingers.

Bellamy didn't think; he just ran. "Octavia!"

She was a shadow in front of him, dipping in and out of his line of sight.

Bellamy forced his legs faster, his heart slamming against the broken pieces inside of him. This wasn't happening. He wouldn't _let_ it happen.

"Octavia!"

There.

Jumping over the fallen trunk of a tree, Bellamy split to the left before taking a sharp right. He saw a head of dark hair before he collided with her.

Pain lit his back as he slammed into the ground and rolled, momentarily stunned. His temples pounded, eyes stinging. He lifted his head from where he was lying strewn on the ground.

Steel eyes were already on him, and he staggered to his feet, hands raised out as if to a wild animal. "I can't let you do this, O."

She pulled herself to a crouch, appraising him. "Want to fight me for real this time, big brother?"

He shook his head. "I never wanted to fight you."

"Well, we don't always get what we want."

Bellamy stared. He couldn't seem to stop doing that, too bewildered, too horrified at what had become of his little sister. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But this isn't the way. Can't you understand that? You're hunting a _child,_ O. A child who's done nothing but survived."

" _How_ she survived," Octavia hissed, "Is what's tearing us apart. It's not her fault, but it's still a problem I have to deal with."

"By _killing her_?"

Her expression darkened. "By eliminating the source of our dissension."

Bellamy could barely comprehend what he was hearing. "Are you that thirsty for power?"

"It's not about power, it's about survival. A child can't lead us, Bel, and the longer she lives, the more defactors we'll have. It's one life for hundreds."

"And you think that justifies it?" He couldn't keep the bite out of his own voice.

"Justice has nothing to do with this. If it did, do you really think there would be eight hundred of us alive right now?" She looked at him from under thick lashes, slashing deep shadows across sharp cheekbones. "You'd have been fortunate to find anyone in that bunker."

Bellamy pursed his lips. "You aren't _in_ the bunker anymore, O."

"And you're not on the Ring. Or was six years all it took you for you to forget the cost of survival?"

Bellamy ignored the bite of her words. "You can make whatever excuse you want; I won't let you near, Madi. I can't let you do that to yourself."

Octavia must have lost her hold on the sword because this time she withdrew a different weapon, this one smaller. She fiddled with the short blade's tip, glancing between the gleaming edge and him. "This isn't something you can save me from, big brother."

"You're right." His voice broke, the realization haunting, the weight crushing. "I can't."

Lithe as a lion, she stepped forward, drawing a quick uppercut. Bellamy ducked just in time, snatching up a loose branch and blocking her next blow. With him pinned, Octavia tried to move around him, but Bellamy managed to turn and knock her feet out from under her.

It was a short reprieve.

In one fluid motion, the both of them were back on their feet, Octavia watching him warily. "Please, Bellamy," she said, her voice suddenly soft, maybe even a little broken. "Don't make me do this."

Bellamy swallowed. Shut his eyes for a moment as if to block out the sight of her. "I'm not. You are."

She pulled back a step, putting more space between them. But Bellamy could practically hear her thoughts, and when Octavia tried once more to split away and around, deeper across the field, Bellamy was ready. Blocking her path once more, Bellamy countered with an elbow to her ribs. She maneuvered before she could receive the full blow, and his arm glanced off her hip. She spun around and brought the small blade across his calf.

At first, Bellamy didn't register the pain. Then heat licked up his leg, coaxing a hiss of breath from him. It drew his attention just enough for Octavia to get ahead once more.

Ignoring the sting, Bellamy went after her, sweat sliding down his neck, blood racing through his veins. _No._ The thought was a scream inside him, chasing away the pain, spurring him on. He wouldn't let her do this. He _would not._

She was more nimble, but he was faster, and the moment he was close enough, Bellamy reached for her, latching onto the elbow she planned to have connect with his face.

He yanked her back so hard, she stumbled.

Octavia's quick breaths coalesced into a short scream of frustration.

Bellamy bit back the sudden rush of pain as he faced her. "If you want to get past me," he said, "you're gonna have to kill me, O."

The muscles in her jaw flexed, and she closed her eyes. Bellamy could see her hands were trembling. A moment passed until her eyes opened and she leveled them at him. They glistened with unshed tears. "I'll try to make it quick, big brother."

Steel flashed.

Bellamy fell back as the blade sliced the air in front of his chest in ribbons. He retracted quickly, letting all the instincts and training he learned on the Ring have their way. Muscle memory was a song in his blood, planting his feet firm, discerning Octavia's moves before she made them.

When she brought the blade across again, Bellamy dropped to his knees, kicking out to her with a leg. The swipe met nothing, and Bellamy felt a force slam into his shoulder. It was followed by a bite of fire, searing across his back.

Before Octavia could get in another hit, Bellamy flipped onto his stomach and pulled back, the blade hissing through the air where his head had just been.

On his knees, Bellamy's hand found a loose root and he yanked it up, letting it be the buffer between him and Octavia's advance. He let her weapon dig into the soft wood before he yanked it away and moved in closer in an attempt to disarm her.

It didn't work.

With one blow to his arm, he dropped his only defense, and Octavia suddenly stood close by him, his wrist secured in her hand, twisted around his back. Bellamy gasped as pain danced up his spine.

"Don't think you'll get me that easy," she murmured, her lips close to his ear. "I'm not weakened by venom this time."

Bellamy gritted his teeth, and reared his head back.

He felt the impact as much as he heard it. Bone hit bone, and Octavia let out a sound of surprise as Bellamy spun around, eyes meeting hers just as she fell to the ground, stunned by the blow.

Bitterness filled him, and he hesitated, torn between hoping she was okay and dreading it.

"O?"

Silence.

Anger bubbled inside, as the familiar tang of worry spread through his chest. How could he look at the sister who had become a murderer, and still see a little girl, afraid of the dark?

"O?"

Slowly, Bellamy approached her still form, trying to maintain a smart distance, as if his sister were a danger. But she was. The little girl he once had to hum lullabies to in order to keep her from crying beneath the floor had become someone capable of hurting innocent people. The reality of that turned his world on its axis. It pulled the stars to the very ground.

Bellamy dropped to a knee, letting his hand find Octavia's shoulder. "Octavia?"

It happened fast.

One moment he was leaning over her, and the next, Bellamy was being slammed into the ground, looking up and into grey eyes.

For a moment there was no ai to pull in, all traces of it shoved out of him the second his back met the dirt.

Something hard bit into his neck, and Bellamy caught a flash of white. The root.

He was pinned.

The branch dug into the soft skin beneath his jaw, cutting into his airway. He gasped like a fish out of water, his chest burning.

Octavia stood above, face hard, eyes fastened on his. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, the regret, the pain, suddenly very raw, and very real. "I'm sorry, Bel."

He tried to pull in air, searching for something he couldn't get. "If I see Mom,-" he rasped, "I'll tell her- you became someone bet-better than this."

Octavia sucked in a sharp breath, as if she were the one without air.

Rustling drew both of their attention, and a moment later- came the sound of footsteps hushing across the forest floor.

"Don't do it, Octavia."

Ice. at the sound of her familiar, young voice, Bellamy's racing blood froze over. The pain vanished. The scream of _No_ became a deafening roar, so loud he was sure anyone could hear it.

"Madi," he coughed, straining his neck up to see her.

" _What are you doing?_ "

The branch against his throat relaxed, and Bellamy had enough room to turn his head and glimpse the young girl inching toward them, dark braids swinging.

She wasn't looking at him but at Octavia, her face pale, expression resolved. "I won't let you kill Bellamy because of me."

"Madi." Bellamy felt as though he were still choking. Why had the others let her run off? Where was Clarke?

He looked from her to Octavia, coaxing his sister's attention back to him. " _O,"_ he stared at her wide-eyed, an animal caught in a trap. "O, _please!_ "

" _Please, O! You can do it!" His cheer was soft, whispered in the safety of the small apartment room, pillows piled around the front door to muffle any sound. His young hands each grasped two smaller ones, tiny fingers lost in his. "Just one step. You can do it."_

 _Blue eyes blinked up at him from under a thick curtain of dark hair, a questioning look on the little girl's face._

 _Bellamy moved his hands up and down, as if that would make her come to him. "C'mon. One step. It would make Mom happy."_

 _Her eyes dropped to the floor._

 _She looked back to her brother._

" _Don't worry," he whispered. "You won't fall. I've got you, O."_

 _She pursed her lips. Her brows furrowed, as if deep in concentration, and with great care, she lifted one small foot from the floor._

" _O,"_ Her name was a beg, everything Bellamy wanted, everything he knew, folding in around him, catching fire. His very own apocalypse. It was as if he saw Octavia standing at the edge of a cliff, arms spread wide, ready to jump.

"O," He gave a small shake of his head. " _Don't."_

Her sharp eyes nearly softened. "Tell Clarke I'm sorry."

The biting pressure of the root disappeared. Head swimming, Bellamy watched Octavia move away from him and toward Madi, the small blade grinning from her right hand.

" _Octavia, NO!"_

Time stopped.

For this one, single moment, the very air seemed to hold its breath as Bellamy staggered to his feet and launched himself forward. He caught Madi's sapphire eyes, loud with fear, and all he could think was _not her_ , not a child, not someone who reminded him so much of the young girl his sister used to be.

Octavia's gaze flashed to his a moment before he slammed into her, his arms encircling her waist as his momentum shoved her as far as possible. Even when they hit the ground, Bellamy didn't let go. Something nicked his shoulder. Stones, big and small, bit into his back, his legs. One glanced off his temple, and blackness seeped into his vision.

But he still didn't let go.

"Mad-Madi-" he could barely hear his own voice over the cacophony of ringing in his ears. "Madi, go!" he hoped the words were a shout and not just a thought. "Get out of here! Get to Clarke!"

Nothing. Bellamy forced his eyes open. When had he closed them?

"Bellamy."

His head snapped up, eyes falling to the small figure partially hidden with shadows as orange stained the sky behind her. She sounded terrified.

Bellamy blinked. "Madi, please. You-"

A sharp gasp cut him off.

With agonizing slowness, the world seemed to return to him with crystal clarity. He was aware of the pain in his body. Of the scream of his heartbeat, shuddering against his sternum. Of the raucous worry to keep a child's blood off his sister's hands.

Bellamy shook his head, his thoughts spinning, his breath shallow. Something slick coated his palms, slipping between his fingers, and he looked down to find them bright as rubies in the light of the dying sun.

Numbness swept over him as he looked from his hands to the woman lying next to him, hand splayed on the ground. Empty.

Pulling himself up, he looked over.

And suddenly, just like that, Bellamy couldn't feel anything.

Not the pain in his body. Not the scream of his heartbeat. Not the worry of a little girl. Nothing. Because in the span of a single moment, his entire world had suddenly shrunk to a picture of Octavia lying in the grass, her small blade sheathed in her chest.

 _She covered her screams with a rag, but it wasn't enough for Bellamy; he still heard it all. He had to be very close, mindful of any footsteps on the other side of the door as he held Mom's hand, letting her squeeze his fingers so hard he thought that she would break them._

" _Almost," she whispered, the word followed by another scream._

 _It was the worst one yet, and Bellamy shut his eyes because he couldn't plug his ears._

 _There was an odd, wet sound, and suddenly Mom let out a relieved breath._

 _Then the crying started._

 _Bellamy had already barricaded the front door with all their pillows, but the sound of such a small, high-pitched wail pulled his nerves taught and pried his eyes wide open. He looked to see Mom wrapping something small and pink up in a blanket, the act quickly quieting the cries._

" _Bellamy," she murmured, holding the bundle close. "Say hello to your sister." In the next moment, Mom had handed him the bundle, and Bellamy suddenly found himself looking down into a tiny face, a pair of big blue eyes looking up at him._

 _He stared, utterly captivated by this tiny life, so precious in his arms. "Wow," he breathed quietly, chancing a quick glance at Mom before returning them to the baby he cradled. "What are you going to call her?"_

 _A quiet exhale. "Why don't you choose it?"_

 _That caught him by surprise. "Me?"_

" _I don't see why not. She's your sister, your responsibility."_

 _Bellamy let out a long breath. "Okay," he murmured, thinking. It seemed an important decision. A lifelong one. "Octavia," he said quietly, and the moment he spoke it, he knew it was right, a perfect fit._

 _He glanced sideways at Mom, finding an approving smile on her lips. "I like it."_

 _Bellamy grinned, and looked back into the tiny face of his little sister. "Hi, Octavia. O. I'm your big brother," he whispered to her, and when she started to fuss again, he reached for her hand, letting her tiny fingers wrap around one of his. "Shh, it's okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Octavia. I promise."_

The sight was so wrong it was almost strange, and Bellamy raised a hand over his sister, suddenly petrified to touch her. "No," he mumbled, half of him understanding what the rest couldn't. He shook his head, and brushed dark hair away from her face. "Octavia?"

Her eyes found his, and another gasp racked her chest.

All of him understood then.

"No," he said again, louder. "No. Octavia, hold on. You'll be fine. Just keep looking at me."

"Bel." Her breath turned to a rasp, and she reached a hand to him.

He took it instantly, red fingers wrapping around hers. How many times had he held this hand?

He used it to coax her arm around his neck. "Hold on. I'll get you back to the others. Abby can help you." He moved her onto his lap, ready to hoist her up.

Her sudden cry of pain stopped him. "No," she ground. An order.

Bellamy's hold on her tightened. "You don't know what you're saying. It'll be fine. _You_ will be fine." He looked up to the place where Madi had been. She was still there, standing a little closer, her expression unreadable in the failing light. "Madi, I need you to go and tell Abby. Tell her-"

"Bellamy."

It was the gentleness in her voice that caught his attention more than anything. Or maybe it was resignation. "You can't- can't fix this."

" _Yes_ , I can." Because he had to. He wouldn't lose her. He couldn't. Not like this. Never like this.

She pulled her arm from his neck, until her hand found his cheek. "Tell me a st-story, Bel."

Bellamy shook his head. He glanced over to where Madi had disappeared. He didn't want to look down. Didn't want to face what was happening, because he couldn't. A world without Octavia was a world he didn't want to be a part of, even after everything.

"Bel."

He resisted the urge to close his eyes, instead settling them on hers. "Do you remember Prometheus?" he asked, his voice thick, as if he were choking again.

"You made him pretty unf-forgettable."

Bellamy nodded. "He was smart, like you. And stubborn. He never knew when to give up."

"That's what you said last time," she gasped. "You like comp-paring me to him."

"You have a lot in common."

"Even the ending?"

Bellamy paused, his hands trembling around her. He swiped a stray hair behind her ear. "It's just a story, O. It's not real."

Octavia gave him a pained expression, gasps racking her slim frame. She squeezed her eyes shut. "This is."

"Madi's getting Abby," Bellamy murmured, shoving her words away. "They'll be here soon. Just keep focusing on me."

A sad look crossed her face, her cheeks pale. Another shudder stole her breath, and her hand dropped from his face and tightened into a pained fist against his chest. "Can't. We're -we're out of time, big brother."

Bellamy was already shaking his head, casting a desperate look to the other side of the field, looking for something, anything to help. He pulled Octavia closer, until they were cocooned in their own pocket of space. "No. You're gonna be fine. Just hold on a little longer."

"Bell-amy."

He shook his head.

"Bellamy, look at m-me."

Slowly, he pulled away enough to look into her face. Her eyes searched him, as if taking him all in, memorizing everything. Then her eyes drifted from his, and settled on the fading sun, trailing purple in its wake.

"Bel."

Bellamy wrapped his hand around hers and brought it back to his face. "I'm here, O."

A light seemed to come on in her eyes, warming the cool steel to a vibrant blue. "Bel, . . ."

And then, something he hadn't seen in a long time; Octavia's smile. Real. Genuine. Young.

"I see- I see him, Bel."

Bellamy glanced in the direction she was looking, just in time to catch a flash of black as two birds played against a purple sky.

"What, O?" he asked, looking back to her.

She opened her mouth and pulled in a shallow breath. Bellamy clung to her and waited for it to pass.

It didn't.

Bellamy looked at her with unseeing eyes, trying to understand. "O?"

Silence.

"Octavia?"

The shaking in his hands grew worse, and suddenly the truth hit him, not in a single blow, but slowly, in one tiny piece that happened to hold his world.

His sister was gone.

Either Bellamy had become deaf to the noise inside him, or the whole world had simply turned off, because there was only silence as he pulled his sister closer, resting his forehead against hers. He rocked gently, still struggling to understand as a scream welled up on the inside of him.

 _Octavia is gone._

 _Octavia is dead._

 _I'm responsible._

" _I won't let anything bad happen to you, Octavia. I promise."_

And suddenly that scream tore from him, crushing the silence into a million, brilliant pieces. The sound echoed across the field and into the trees. It seemed to carry to the very sky, and chase those birds away.


End file.
